Hut!
by TCBN
Summary: <html><head></head>Sam joins the football team, becomes champion quarterback and uncovers that the coach forces the boys to take Steroids, Bebe and Wendy are upset that the boys use drugs for football.</html>
1. Chapter 1

_ **removed and replaced because i think this story arc is a strong one that can stand on its own. Enjoy**_

The school football team was doing drills, the coach barked drills and orders for everyone to do, hand clamped down on a stopwatch, eyes bulging out as he watched each player with a menacing stare.

"CAAAARRRRRRTTTMMMMAN!" the coach roared, causing Cartman to scream in fright and turn around

"YOU are unbelievable!" he roared, pinching his nose and shaking his head, "Your weight is detrimental to the chances of this team winning!"

"Yeah!" Stan, a very muscular player huffed, standing beside his best friends, one with a sweaty cap of blonde hair and a red head who was gulping down water from his water bottle.

"You're off the team!" the coach growled, "You're destroying our chances of winning"

"But-" Cartman stared, still huffing from the run they had done

"If you kick him off, we'll not have enough players" Kyle reasoned

"That doesn't matter" the coach smiled, "I already made a replacement today and it will be Stan's JOB to make sure he complies"

"WHAT!?" Stan glared, "I'm not training another slob!"

"Who're you calling a slob" a shorter and much leaner looking boy stared back. The boys stared back. They had already forgotten that there was a random dude playing in Cartman's spot when Coach sidelined him.

"Get your head in the game" Coach snarled, "and do not for the love of god FAIL!"

"You don't have to train me" Sam waved a hand at the self centered gym junkie he ran into outside of school, "I can train myself"

"We can't lose against those douches!" Stan shouted, "if we lose, everyone will hate m- I mean us!"

"Far out" Sam muttered, "I have to be somewhere at certain times. I can't just show up to training when I-"

"I DON'T BLOODY CARE!" Coach screamed, "Now get back to work!"

They resumed the drill, Sam was now in the prime position of what lots of people called, the concussion position.

"HUT!" Stan hollered

Sam bolted, ball in hands, leaping over hurdles of flying people and dodging people like bullets, only to drown in scrambling hands and feet.

"Fuck, Sam" Stan groaned as Sam pegged the ball into an arbitrary direction. Stan felt agitated he had to train a clumsy footed Melvin.

"Why are there so many new kids" Kyle shrugged

"Well, it is the new year of school" Stan explained

"Yeah, but year twelve?" Kyle stared

"Eh" Stan shrugged


	2. Chapter 2

Stan stood there, arms folded meanly across his chest, whistle parked between his incisors. Kenny stood with Stan, engrossed in a magazine he'd brought over.

"Move your ass!" Stan snapped, watching Sam huff as he weaved through a set of cones and hoisted a ball in various directions after each cone swivel.

"Man" Sam bent over and face planted, heaving

"If he's that bad on the field, he's probably even worse in the bed" Kenny shook his head

Stan and Sam, standing up, booted Kenny, one foot on each buttock and sent Kenny flailing onto the muddy grass.

"Gross" Sam scowled

"Hey, save your energy supplies, you may need it, worm" Kenny joked, standing up

"Yeah" Stan snickered, realizing in that instant that Sam was far smaller than Kenny, and Kenny was the slenderest kid in the group.

"I'll give you agility, dickhead" Sam snapped, standing up, looking as if he was going to throw a punch.

"What? How?" Stan scoffed

"Throw the ball to the other side" Sam ordered

"Should I do it? Stan's the best thrower and I doubt you want to show off agains-" Kenny started

"Just throw the fucking ball" Sam glared, jumping on his toes

"Dog" Stan rolled his eyes and pegged it, watching as it did a perfect arc, sailing upwards, like a plane taking off. Within seconds, a wipe of blue football shoes blurred into visibility, around where the ball started arching back towards Earth. Stan and Kenny could do nothing but stare as Sam snatched the thing out of the air, smiling.

Kenny's mouth fell open "Holy shit we've got a quarterback"

Xx

Bebe and Wendy were both vaulting Lola into the air, practicing the newest cheer move when Sam walked in, covered in sweat and mud.

"Hi" Bebe waved, looking away, ignoring Lola's screaming and cursing as Bebe grabbed Lola and fell, glaring at Bebe's back.

"Now wouldn't be a great time to greet" Sam laughed at the scene

"…Yeah" Lola struggled to her feet, helping a winded Bebe up

"Sorry, girls" Bebe looked back at the two, "But Nicole's stronger than me, can't we vault me into the air?"

"She's sick today, so we're still gonna practice every position" Wendy explained, rolling her eyes as Bebe watched over Wendy's shoulder as Sam went to get his gear from the steps and walked out, sheepishly waving back as he stepped out.

"Focus, you numbskull!" Wendy glared

"I- I'm sorry, It's just that he's really distracting" Bebe shook her head

"God, you're worse than a romance novel!" Lola snickered, "Your turn"

Bebe moved herself between the two girls and vaulted, lifting her legs up so that they could catch her when she landed.

"I mean, isn't he definitely someone to look at?" Bebe asked as the two girls vaulted her once more and tucked her knees as she did a flip.

"Pfff, don't be easy to catch" Wendy scoffed as the girls sprang into place and continued the choreographed dance.

"It's not often you mind someone you break up with and get back with all the time" Bebe whined, referring to Wendy

"He's always willing to change!" Wendy frowned, "Not that it's always so easy to keep him in line"

"Aren't you worried about Stan's health?" Lola asked, doing a cartwheel beside Bebe

"Yeah, I've told him he has to stop but he never listens" Wendy sighed, doing a split, arm in the air

"I saw him" Wendy stood up from doing a double flip and crossed her arms, "He was taking a belt off of his bicep"

"Well…. He could be doing Heroin" Bebe offered

"Think about it, dummy!" Lola knocked Bebe on the head, "what do athletes use to increase muscle mass? Remember Jimmy?"

"Steroids!" Wendy glared, "That's precisely what I was getting at!"

"Oh god!" Bebe looked mortified

"It's old news! Stan has been on that team for ages!" Wendy was on the verge of tears

"No- I mean- Sam's new! We can't have another drug addled jock for our dating options! I mean-" Bebe flicked her hair over her shoulder, "The instant the hot guys do drugs, they are no longer datable!"

Wendy glared hard, "don't be a bitch, Bebe!"

"That's not what I mean- I- I just mean- We don't want any more of… us… using drugs" Bebe trailed off. She found it a complete revulsion that 85% of the school's datable boys (footballers) did drugs.  
>"The drug problem" Lola rolled her shoulders, "I don't think it's the boys that are doing it"<p>

"I saw Stan do it!" Wendy snapped, "course they've done it themselves!"

"No- I mean what if it's pressure?" Lola asked, "And Football is dangerous already"


	3. Chapter 3

"That doesn't make him a fucking quarter back!" the coach screamed

"Yes it does" Stan nodded, "he can catch the ball in flight and even pitch it far, too!"

"I'm not that fantastic" Sam shrugged

"Don't be modest" Coach laughed cruelly and cracked his hands in a fist, "Be rough"

"Whu, well" Sam fidgeted, "Okay"

"I want everyone to focus on flooring Sam's skull into the dirt!" Coach barked

Sam looked mortified, as to which Kyle patted him on the back; "he's not serious about his vulgar words"

"I hope not" Sam chuckled nervously, hugging his own small frame. Everyone had all these strong arms and large leg muscles, where as Sam had a very slight look about him that made Kenny appear buff. The coach cocked his chin in Sam's direction motioning Sam forward.

"Take these" Coach demanded, thrusting a pouch towards him, a bottle of pills jutting out the zipper.

"Sir, no thank you, sir" Sam mentally kicked himself as his way of addressing him

"Take the fucking medication!" he spat, vein becoming swollen in his neck

"Dude" Stan's eyes widened in a warning, behind the coach, "do what you're told"

"I…" Sam obliged, and took the bag, feeling like he'd just robbed a band and had been caught, "Thank you"

"You will need the medication" Coach's voice calmed down, everyone was silent, watching, "in order for you to succeed"

Sam hugged the package to his chest as he walked away and instructed the other boys on various tactics. Kenny walked up to Sam and watched as he opened the pouch, revealing three sets of needles of different size and five bottles, all labeled long complicated words and a two bottles of medication that had to be taken twice a day. Iron, zinc medication and phials of steroids that had to be injected one hour before a workout.

"Dude, if you don't take that stuff" Kenny whispered, "Coach will see the muscles that aren't there, and he'll flip"

"I'll work something out" Sam put the package somewhere, not intending to pick it up and jogged outside from the lockers to the football field where the sodium lights blinded him momentarily, lightening up the grassy pitch, blurring the screaming crowds in the school team colors. They walked onto the pitch, Sam couldn't help but drop his jaw. They had practiced a few times and didn't feel that the pitch was so large but once he walked outside, he felt small, like an ant in a frying pan.

"….Goooo COWS!" a line of four girls in short cheer dresses flounced around the stadium, waving around their glittering balls of streamers, chanting out the chant, jumping about, alive with the screaming crowd of school kids who waved flags, banners and clapped and whooped. One girl in particular glanced behind her shoulder, blonde curly springing around as she looked aside and flashed a smile that Sam wondered was aimed at the anti-smoking poster behind him on the closed door or at him as he strode into place. The girls flew into the sidelines and the players lined up, facing one another, a double line of menacing shoulder pads and helmets froze into position. The players breathed through their noses, nostrils flaring, one player grinded his teeth in anticipation.

"HUUUUUUUUUT!" a voice howled

Everyone broke into grunting and gasps of exertion as they all grappled tirelessly for the airborne ball. Sam wasn't quit able to wrap his palm around the ball but was more able to leap and swat the ball out of the opposition's grasp, winding himself as somebody pushed him down, chewing grass as his helmet mouth guard trapped parts of lawn into his visor. Standing up, he saw someone making way for the goals. Everyone was running, like vultures. Sam could see that this player, Kyle, was fucked. Bolting, arms flapping, shoulder pads clamping his shoulders as he ran, he screamed for his attention. Kyle turned and sent the ball on his direction and got instantly buried by a mountain of players in tackle mode. Snatching the ball up, Sam made a break for it, vultures hot on his heels, dissipating from Kyle.

Xx

Bebe leaned on her seat, eyebrows arched upwards, mouth agape. Wendy was sitting back, only standing when Stan had the ball or when he threw it a mile.

"Holy shit, Sam's quick" Bebe stared

"Do you shut up for one second about the fucking shorty?" Lola snapped

"I'm sorry" Bebe glared, "but if you're watching, everyone's making a dive for him as he runs and everyone seems to be missing!"

It was true. Sam was, indeed, bolting, dodging people as of they were bullets, jumping over people on the floor and running, arm around the ball. He dove for the sideline, and smashed the ball into the grass as everyone leapt from their seats and roared.

"It's football, you're supposed to dodge flying attackers"

"I need to have a word with Stan" Wendy muttered


	4. Chapter 4

Stan stuck the needle into his vein, feeling the acidic fingers crawl up his arm and into his blood as he pressed the metal plunger. Untying the knot on his arm he shook it out and grasped the weights and went down on his back and did fifteen quick reps. One. Two. Three. Stan could feel his muscles become stronger after each push. Four. Five. Six. The pain in his arms didn't slow him down. Seven. Eight. Nine. Someone knocked on the door.

"I can't stop in the middle of it, mom" Stan rasped out as he pushed the weights

"It's Wendy. I really need to speak to you" Wendy's soft voice called from the other side of the bedroom door.

"Give me one hour, I can't stop!" Stan pushed out the reps, "Thirteen, Four-"

Wendy burst in and pushed the weights down onto Stan's chest and held them there, "I want to speak to you, now"

"Fine" Stan let the weight roll off of his chest and onto the floor, "what?"

"I really think you shouldn't use the drugs for" Wendy gulped back tears, "F-for anything, really"

"I have to! Don't you understand! If I don't, we'll loose!" Stan scowled, sitting up, massaging his swollen biceps that were still hungry for another two hundred repetitions.

"You don't need to rely on that to win" Wendy sat beside him, placing a hand gingerly on his own

"Yes, I do" Stan flicked her hand away and grabbed the bar and grunted out the rest of the repetitions, ignoring Wendy.

"You're addicted! You're all doped up and addicted" Wendy scowled and stood

"It's not Dope! It's fucking Steroids!" Stan snapped

"No, its fucking Testosterone!" Wendy spat, angry and turned, tearfully leaving the house, "We've over!"

"I told you he's considered an undatable prick" Bebe smiled coolly as Wendy walked past her, where she waited for Wendy.

"I just can't believe it" Wendy shook her head, walking, Bebe beside her

"Look, I would just leave it alone" Bebe shrugged, "Maybe it could sort itself out"

"Right" Wendy scoffed, "You're the one who shags boys regardless of-"

"Oh shut up, I do not!" Bebe glared, "that's just because I look that hot, people assume I shag boys!"

"You're the one who gets all doe eyed whenever-" Wendy started

"One kid" Bebe held up one bony pale finger, "One boy. I think everybody is disgusting"

"Maybe Sam's disgusting, too" Wendy warned, "Maybe he has a secret alternative life that you don't know about"

"PFff!" Bebe scoffed, laughing, "He's perfect"

"Not everybody's perfect" Wendy said, "Make sure you know the kid before you say you love the kid. Don't you think you're a little quick for love? You fall way too easily" Wendy sated

Bebe was stumped. This was very true. She had the tendency to fall so easily. Maybe that was her fatal flaw, too.

"I told you, dumpy" Wendy snickered

"Yeah…. But… argh.." Bebe looked at her feet. Sam had been going to the school since forever and Bebe for some reason wrote him off purely because he was too short, something Kenny had taken to mean too short in the pants, which was most definitely not the case at all (not that he told anybody, nobody in their right mind asked or had a look as far as Bebe knew). Sam was literally a five-foot short kid. Hell, Stan towered at eight feet, whereas Bebe was six feet. It couldn't work.

Xx

Sam was running as hard as he could, on the treadmill, Kenny leaned on a water fountain, watching Sam break a sweat.

"You know, life would be made much easier if you used the stuff Coach gave you" Kenny yawned

"I know" Sam puffed, red in the face, sprinting, "I'm still not going to touch any of it"

"Not even an eeny weeny insy little bit? " Kenny asked

"Nope" Sam huffed

"Bebe has big knockers" Kenny said, trying to distract Sam's thoughts, instead, he kept running.

"I know" Sam laughed, "There's always a way to point out the obvious with you"

Kenny laughed, "Maybe you two should hook up"

"We hardly know one another" Sam shrugged, running and eventually winding himself, stopping the treadmill to heave and cough.

"Hooters!" Kenny jeered

"Shut up, I'm trying to get fitter" Sam waved him off

"You're getting HOOTERS!" Kenny howled in laughter

"I am NOT!" Sam scowled

"Too many push ups!" Kenny cackled


	5. Chapter 5

Wendy tapped Bebe on the shoulder and snatched _gone with the wind _from her hands.

"Wendy, I have to ready that for English class!" Bebe turned around in her library chair

"I think we need to do something about the drug problem" Wendy sat with her

"Course we can, but how would we do that?"

"We just spy on them with voice recorders and video cameras… and wires"

"Who would we wire" Bebe asked

"The newbie, of course, I mean he's bound to make mistakes and waves" Wendy explained, "most of the commotion could be around him as everyone's probably learned to bow their heads in obedience"

"Hmm, that could work but I think the boys aren't so sure about giving up steroids" Bebe interjected, "besides, Coach's brainwashed them"

"Are you sure?" Wendy fidgeted

"Course I am sure!" Bebe waved a hand, "Stan and everyone wasn't ever like this before"

Xx

Whistlin' Willey's was bustling with people from all ages, everyone stuffing their faces with pizza, chattering about their lives, a general din of happy noise and a low rumble of a jazz station. Bebe sat, munching on a vegetarian slice of pizza and Sam wolfed down a burger hungrily, licking sauce off his fingers.

"I was thinking" Bebe fidgeted with the crust, "about you and your position in the field"

"It's tough" Sam shrugged, "I wonder why they don't let girls play"

"Because!" Bebe glared, "Of that retarded coach!"

"What?" Sam cringed, "the coach's a sexist?"

"No- look the NFL is sexist. Boys must compete in the NFL team and NO girls play any football or none that I've seen on TV. If a female is on the team then she makes the team redundant, whatever, blame the media" Bebe rolled her eyes, "For some reason, watching a girl play NfL-"

"Would be hot for some people, like Kenny" Sam joked

"No" Bebe blushed slightly, "I mean- because they want players to be rough and just about beat the crap out of one another, and society still think women are fragile"

"Tell that to Margaret Thatcher" Sam said

"Who?" Bebe asked, curious

"Some famous woman in a massive career" Sam answered

"Oh, you mean a feminist activist-" Bebe started

"I think she did employ some things regarding female rights" Sam nodded "but she's not one of the bigger names floating around in regard to feminism"

"You act and behave like such a girl" Bebe shook her head

"I have a feeling you were wanting to explain about why you refused to play in school NFL? Rather than calling me a female?" _Is it because of my pecs? _Sam looked downwards, feeling self conscious that he was starting to have a more lean look, rather than a chubby or non muscular appearance.

"Yes, we can't play because you guys compete with other male NFL players, making it unfair" Bebe nodded, "and because you're Coach is doing something illegal. When you go into the finals, they're going to test your piss. Coach will probably try and make you drink coffee to crap it all out, the drugs"

"I know…" Sam self consciously folded his arms under the table to hide his muscle, "I haven't taken anything. I don't want to, either"

"Dude, Coach will kill you!" Bebe whitened in horror

"You look as if I told you I was doing ice" Sam laughed

"It's the equivalent of that" Bebe shook her head, "Look, I think I have an idea on how to reveal the Coach…"

"How?" Sam asked, "I'm sure if I lied about me taking the drugs I could stay under the rada-"

"Coach tests your piss every week to check that you are taking steroids" Bebe hushed, "you need to be careful"

"So, do I need to wear a wire?" Sam asked


	6. Chapter 6

The semi-finals were on and the crowd was, once again, filled with a drunken cheer and glittering banners and songs being hollered. They were competing against a group of large set boys who were twice Stan's size. In the football field, everyone was lined up, ready for tackle. The ref had the ball in his hand and was ready to blow his whistle.

"HUT! HUT! HUT!" Referee howled

Sam could tell he wouldn't be able to make enough ground, he was tiny but he could see by their size that they could tackle him easily. Now he knew why the coach wanted them to do the big jumps rather than the sprint and weave technique that Sam had inspired so many people to do.

"Not so threatening, are you?" someone snickered at Sam's face. People knew there was a good runner but no one knew it was Sam, but Sam still felt terrified of the prospect of being buried under by towering muscles that made his own new half muscular build look puny. Kyle snatched the ball from the sky and bolted, Stan and Sam giving chase, Kenny not far off.

"Get on my hands, dude!" Kyle screamed to his best friend and threw Stan the ball. The vultures were closing in. The opposition was beginning to make their own tower of people. Stan placed a strong spiked foot on Sam's hands, which were gripping Kyle's sweaty palms. Stan placed a hand on Kyle's head for balance and Kenny thrust his arms under the handhold and helped the two boys vault Stan sky high.

"STAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaNNnnnnn!" Randy's voice hollered from afar

Sam and Kyle were winded and bolting. Kenny's voice swore, alerting the two others to look up. A player who looked like he was meant to be a bulldog from birth, roared through the sky. The enemy player had been vaulted and had clawed his arms around Stan, hugging the ball into his chest. They were falling to the ground and Sam only had time to pull his visor down to cover his eyes, forgetting to cover his ears. An air horn blew over the loud plop of a dead weight hitting the ground.

"Shit" Kyle's face was white, on his knees, shaking

"That's an illegal tackle" The coach was screaming, marching onto the scene, gesticulating angrily to someone on his phone, perhaps dialing 911, "Get off my player!"

The player slowly stood up and backed away, head down. A crowd of spectators, the cheerleaders and the players from two teams surrounded Stan's still body. A paramedic weaved through the thicket of the crowd and declared he was still alive but with critical injuries.

"Stan!" Wendy cried, clamoring as the paramedic assessed him

Xx

"Stan" Sam sat beside his friend who was sitting up in a hospital bed, eyes absent

"He can hear you, he's just very quiet" a nurse had told him earlier

Stan clumsily reached for a glass of water, which toppled to the floor when he tried to grasp it with a bandaged hand.

"Where am I?" Stan murmured

"Hospital, dude" Sam replied, "You got a serious brain injury. You were out for a week"

Stan didn't respond for a few minutes, "Where am I?"

Sam sucked in his lips, he wasn't sure how to deal with this situation or how to respond.

"Do you want a protein bar?" Sam asked, "The hospital's got a vending machine"

"I feel like toast…" Stan shrugged, "buttered toast"

"But Coach said…" Sam started and trailed off. He had been written off the team when the paramedics wheeled him away, "-Toast's a good idea"

"Hmh" Stan nodded, drifting into an open-eyed daze once more

"Wendy's outside" Sam stood up and let a tearful eyed Wendy barrel in and give Stan a tight hug.

"Where am I?" Stan asked her

Sam couldn't make himself remain, but he wanted to leave the hospital, shaken about the prospect of getting a traumatic brain injury. Bebe waved politely as Sam greeted her in the waiting room.

"He's managing…" Sam shook his head, "But his career's over"

"Yeah" Bebe stood and walked with him, "It's dangerous, playing contact sports, yet the thrill ride has to be larger than the risks"

"Cartman managed to return and replace Stan's place" Sam changed the subject slightly, "Coach's unhappy"

"Who cares what he thinks" Bebe shrugged, "the good news is that Stan wont be doing steroids, to Wendy's joy"


	7. Chapter 7

Sam had gone, Stan was brain damaged, Cartman slowed the team and Kenny was too bust hitting on cheerleaders. Butters had been called to take Sam's spot. Kyle had a feeling he was bound to lose. The whole sport was getting pretentious and dull. The finale was starting in five minutes. The cheer team were executing a dance and the screens flashed words of confidence and shots of the crowd cheering around the stadium. Kyle didn't want to play anymore. It was mostly because of losing his best friend to brain damage. Bebe had insisted Kyle infiltrate the team, wearing a wire. The wire. The wire that held a life changing decision for the future. Looking up from the sidelines, Kyle watched as his Coach chatted to the announcer in the glass box that hovered over a set of stairs lined with megaphones.

"Kyle" Coach turned to face him, angry. Kyle wondered if Coach has kicked Sam off the team himself, "Why did you not take the steroids!?"

Kyle walked into the door and saw Coach holding the drug sheet. Listing all the things that were present in urine. It was clean as any other person who never touched the drugs. Bebe had insisted he skip a few days of drugs, part of the big plan, which involved the wire.

"You insipid fuck!" Coach roared, stomping forward, turning away from the microphone and window, missing a large sign that blinked ON AIR

"I didn't want to taint the game or make it unfair" Kyle backed away, terrified

"You will do as you are damn told!" Coach grabbed Kyle's wrist and slammed it down on a nearby desk

"What the hell!" Kyle squirmed in terror, balling his hand trying to pull away

Kyle had time to realize two things. One. This room was covered by CCTV security cameras, Two. His wire was recording. Bonus: the window was in full view, people could see a man wrestling a boy's hand onto the desk.

"HELP!" Kyle shrieked

Coach yanked out a long slender phial, with the metal plunger and swung down into Kyle's forearm, breaking the needle.

"Freeze! Police!" a man shouted, the sound of a door swinging open "leave the player alone!"

Kyle slowly turned his head to face a man in a policeman's suit, standing in front of spectators and other players from both teams staring with their mouths agape. The coach unlatched his hand from Kyle and swore. Bebe must have been listening to the wire on headphones and notified the police. Or spectators saw through the glass window and became suspicious or something else. The coach was arrested; the wire and recordings were used as evidence against the coach, along with player statements discussing abuse of drugs and the illicit style of the coach's training. The football team was disqualified, of course, for using performance-enhancing drugs and the job space for a new Coach stood open like a wound. The school football team no longer existed for some time, till the stigma eventually wore off, and a sensible coach took the job.

The end


End file.
